


Ever, Ever After

by afterandalasia



Category: Enchanted (2007)
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Community: disney_kink, F/M, Family, Fluff, Magical Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-23 08:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex? Who needs sex when you have love? When you aren't 'drawn that way', there are other ways to go through life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever, Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> For the awesome anon at Disney Kink who prompted that Giselle can't have sex because she's "not drawn that way", so there must be a fluffy, cute way of having a family instead.

He wondered for a long time just what she meant by Andalasia. Where it was, what it was like. Giselle could talk for hours about it, but try as he might Robert could not find a thing. It sounded like some sort of temperate place, but the way that she reacted to technology was like she had been raised Amish or something. Or not even that, seeing as she didn't even know about it.

So there were things that he had to help her with. Like learning how to actually handle money, and to use public transport, and to cook the foods that she'd never heard of before, and generally a million and one little things that he took for granted. She was worth it, she was so worth it, but it was a little... eye-opening sometimes to think about the world from Giselle's point of view.

She slept on the sofa for quite a while, and he persuaded her to buy nightclothes rather than making them, although she still fell in love with some Victorian-looking nightgown that was all lace and ruffles. She used to waft around in it in the mornings, not understanding why Robert had to laugh, and then went and bought fabric anyway to make Morgan a copy of it.

Having her around was just... magical. Being with her, being able to hold her hand, to kiss her, to have her fall asleep with her head on his shoulder. It didn't bother him that she didn't show the slightest interest in moving into his room. Morgan was the one who came up with the idea of getting a second twin put in her room, and Giselle started talking about sleepovers and braiding each other’s hair, and the two girls just got so excited that Robert had let them get on with it and just ordered the new bed. Last he had seen, Giselle had done something with nets and hoops and the two of them had these matching big canopies over their beds that Morgan said totally made them into princess beds, and maybe it was just better not to ask.

It was a few months later and the summer holidays had come round by the time that Morgan went round to her friend's for a sleepover for the first time, and they had waved goodbye from the taxi, and Robert had needed to stop Giselle from climbing out of the car to say hello to all of Morgan's friends. The girls all loved her, that much was clear, had been made clear at Morgan's party and at the launch of the dresses when Giselle had made them all and somehow, goodness knew how, twenty excitable children had been perfectly well behaved for her the whole day.

He gently clinked their glasses of wine together as they stood on the balcony, in the lovely, quiet, clean and tidy apartment, and smiled. "To us."

"To us," Giselle replied, and snuggled closer against his shoulder. An uncomfortable thought crossed Robert's mind, whether they could take advantage of the evening... whether that even felt right. He wanted nothing more than to stand here and watch the stars and maybe just kiss her; the thought of taking Giselle to bed and trying more was alluring, in one sense, but as soon as he tried to turn his thoughts fully towards it, it became... wrong. Because she was sweet and soft and warm, and if this evening could be repeated every day for the rest of his life he did not care, but the only way he would want to be in bed with her would be to cuddle up and sleep, peaceful and content. It was oddly liberating.

But all the same... sometimes it worried him. Even though he didn't really know how old Giselle was -- and she seemed a bit fuzzy on the idea herself, truth be told -- and he wouldn't exactly call himself old, it was just, well, one of those things. "Giselle," he said, leaning his head against hers.

"Yes, Robert?"

"Do you ever think about... you know... starting a family?"

She drew away from him slightly, and he wondered whether he had said something wrong, but then Giselle was just looking up at him with confused blue eyes. "I thought that we were a family," she said.

"No! Yes! I mean-" Robert put down his drink on the balcony, and put both of his arms around Giselle. "I mean... perhaps having more children. You know. In the future."

There was only an instant, before a smile spread across her face. "Oh, yes! Oh, Robert, that would be so wonderful, I-"

He couldn't help it, the laughter bursting out as she enthused about children, and he had to kiss her on the lips to stop her from babbling so much. Then Giselle giggled as well, and blushed, and then he kissed her a second time, and she nuzzled into his shoulder and they stood for a while just looking up at the stars. It was one of the advantages of being in the apartment; above the street lamps, the sky was just that bit clearer, and with the clear sky the major constellations could be picked out. He knew before he even started talking about them that Giselle would love hearing the names and stories, and if she'd had her way they probably would have been there for hours.

But in the apartment, the clock started striking midnight. Another of Giselle's little foibles: she loved having the grandmother clock, found in an old antique shop, and hearing it chime the hours so prettily. Robert couldn't say no to that either.

"Oh, look," he said, pointing out a little streamer moving its way across the sky. "A shooting star."

"We should make a wish!" Giselle gasped, eyes lighting up. Robert laughed, but nodded.

"Go on, then. What do you wish."

"Oh, you shouldn't tell," she said, still in all seriousness. "Otherwise it won't come true."

"Ah, but we're making a wish together," he reminded her.

Giselle bit her lip for a moment, then smiled sweetly and gave him a light peck on the lips. "All right," she said. "How about..." Her voice softened, and if anything became a little more serious. She held his gaze, that clear stare she used when she wanted to be sure that he was paying attention, and he found himself drawn into her again. "We wish for a family. A baby."

His throat felt dry for a moment, but then he found himself nodding, nodding enthusiastically. "Yes," he said. "Yes, let's wish for that."

And then she kissed him again, and it was her initiating the kiss, which he still found to be rare. Some silly romance overcame him and he took her fully into his arms, holding her weight as he leant her backwards, one of her hands on the side of his face and the other against his chest. And good grief what was he doing, he had never thrown a kiss like this before, but it felt right, and deep in himself he wished again on that shooting star, that little bit of rock burning up in the atmosphere, for a family with Giselle.

Finally the kiss broke, and they smiled stupidly at each other, then Robert let Giselle stand on her own feet again. "Hey," he said softly, picking up the glasses. "How about you sleep in my room tonight?"

Saying anything cruder, anything more obvious, would have felt wrong. But she agreed, and there was this little twist to her smile that made him sure that she knew what he was suggesting, and they made their way to his room, changed into their nightclothes -- well, Giselle donned her nightgown; Robert opted for boxers -- and turned the light off before slipping into bed. All right, old fashioned. Robert could handle that. Then he slid across the bed to embrace her, and then kiss her, and she was pressed into him so very willingly, and despite a gasp of surprise when he touched her breast she didn't seem upset, and he was just shifting his weight on top of her, one knee between her thighs, when-

"Oh! Robert, what are you doing?"

"What the hell-"

They both went scrambling for the light at the same time, bursting brightness onto the room sharply enough for Robert to put one hand over his eyes for a moment. As he opened them again he realised that he was kneeling in front of Giselle, whilst she sat against the headboard with her hands pressed down into her lap, both of them looking just astonished as the other.

For quite similar reasons.

"Robert, all you okay?"

She was staring at his groin. Seriously staring. Damn it, she was a beautiful woman, and she had been in his arms, and yes now his boxers were displaying something of a telltale sign of that.

"Yes! It's normal! It's..." he looked at astonishment down to her own crotch. He knew that she wasn't wearing panties, that there was only one layer of cotton there, and he knew as well what it was to press his thigh against a woman's groin. "It's normal here," he said in sudden realisation. "In New York."

"Does everyone do that?" she added, still pressed up against the headboard. "Oh, it's going away again."

Well, that was probably no surprise, given the circumstances. "Only men," replied Robert, discomfort in his voice. Oh lord, he had at least expected her to be human. "People from your... from Andalasia... they don't..." he gestured vaguely to her lap.

She just looked at him blankly.

"Giselle, do people in Andalasia have sex?"

Not a flicker. "What's sex?"

Oh god. Oh good lord, was this just because she was naive, or was there honestly something going on that he just did not understand here. Robert knelt there frozen for a moment, looking at her in fearful bewilderment, fully aware that she was reflecting the same expression straight back at him. “Well, look, uh... you've seen Morgan's barbies, right?"

"Yes..."

He wasn't surprised that she couldn't see where this was going. He could hardly believe he was saying this himself. "So, you know, they're not quite like humans. Like they don't have any body hair," she was nodding along now, and he felt at least a touch more confident about this, "and they don't have nipples... and they don't have anything between their legs."

Giselle had been following him until then, by the look on her face, but now she frowned. "Between their legs? What do you mean?"

The evening didn't exactly go as planned. But it did get quite interesting after a while.

\---

Days passed. Robert resigned himself to things at first, then began to realise that in some ways it just made everything... so much easier. There was no need to worry about things getting complicated, or feeling like he was taking advantage of Giselle, and really when you came down to it sex was sort of messy anyway. He carefully didn't bring up the issue after that first long - long, long - talk that evening, though, and equally dropped the question of families. Well, Giselle already seemed happy to adopt Morgan; perhaps she'd be happy to continue down that route.

It was probably about a month after the whole incident, when Robert had booked a day off and they were preparing to go to the park (hopefully without any spontaneous musical numbers, Robert added to himself) that things went... strange.

Stranger, even.

Giselle looked flustered, as she had done occasionally over the recent days, though there was this wonderful glow about her lately that made Robert wonder whether there was something new in the air. Or perhaps it was just summer. As she cleared the table and headed into the kitchen, whilst Morgan ran off to get her backpack, Robert followed her and put one hand gently on the small of her back. She jumped, giving a startled squeak, and he laughed softly.

"Hey, you okay?"

A nod. She was smiling, so brightly, looking as if she was just bursting to say something. Robert held her gaze for a moment, finding himself smiling without deliberate action, then raised his eyebrows. "And?"

Giselle took a deep breath, then let it all out in a rush with the words: "I'm pregnant."

The expression dropped off his face. "What?"

"I'm going to have a baby," she said. And before he could say anything else, before he could ask what the hell was going on, suddenly Morgan was back in the room again and overheard what was said, and was squealing for joy and running to hug Giselle. And Robert was just too dazed to say anything more about it.

In fact, he remained dazed for the whole time they were at the park. Morgan found it funny. Then again, when you were seven you didn't really worry where the baby was coming from, and she had always wanted a little sister or something anyway. Morgan found it especially funny when Robert almost fell into the river because he wasn't paying attention, but Giselle had also been amused by it. As had some of the passers-by, so that was probably wholly excusable. The one bit of sense that he had managed to come out with was to suggest that if Giselle was pregnant, she should probably be a bit careful with the running around games that Morgan wanted to play, and wouldn't it be better to focus on the picnic instead? And then Morgan had been disappointed at the idea of waiting a whole eight months for a little sister - or brother, Giselle had reminded her - and Robert had just thought that eight months was not going to be enough time to get his head round this.

And that night, he and Giselle came the closest they'd ever come to an argument in months.

Hell, they even had to close the door to his room so that they could 'talk', and he had waited until after Morgan's bedtime to try and be sure that she didn't hear any of it. He didn't want that discussion yet, either.

"Pregnant? Giselle, you can't be pregnant."

She had her hands held to her stomach defensively, looking at him more evenly than she would have done some time ago. She was learning New York, learning assertiveness.

"I am pregnant, Robert. I know it might be a surprise to you, but we talked about it and-"

"No, no," he put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Giselle. You do not have the parts to get pregnant. We discussed that as well."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't..." he gestured to her groin again, and it felt so dirty to do so. He had a daughter, he'd had various relationships, and goodness knew there had been some dirty middle-of-the-night phone calls with Nancy in that time when they had agreed not to stay the night with each other but the need had just been too great. And somehow with Giselle, he found that he didn't even want to say things that suddenly seemed 'crude' and, yes, dirty. "Giselle, you can't have children here."

"Why not?"

"You don't- oh, good lord. Giselle. Having babies in New York requires sex, okay? And we didn't, well, you couldn't, well, yes."

Oh great, and now she was looking at him like he was the idiot. "Well, we have babies just fine without sex in Andalasia."

And with just those words, she took all of the wind out of his sails. He was getting to hear more about Andalasia over the passing time, especially in that talk a month ago, and was just beginning to get his head around the idea that it was a magical world or parallel universe or something which meant that it didn't run on the same rules. And good grief, if he was starting to accept that, then why the hell did he think that Giselle was the only one there who wasn't made exactly the same as people from New York?

She looked a little triumphant when realisation finally dawned on his face. Just a little. She'd been in New York long enough for that, as well.

\---

At first he still wasn't sure whether or not he believed it, but as the months passed there was no denying the fact that Giselle was pregnant. Her belly swelled, she glowed, and if he'd thought that she was bad for housework before he had not anticipated what she would be like once she was nesting in the house. Quite aside from his room being rearranged so that she could join him and so that there was room for a crib. Suddenly everything was about babies: baby clothes, baby names, and the people that she worked with - not to mention some of the women that she worked with - were cooing over her as well.

She loved it. And he had to admit, it suited her, floating around in the clothes that she made herself and altered to fit her expanding form. Coming to meet him after work and charming his clients with the way she talked. Friends and even complete strangers fascinated with the pregnancy - even when Robert got so protective of her that he wanted to hit anyone that asked if they could feel her belly, she was quite happy to let them do so. And when the baby first moved, and she rang him at work specifically to tell him with such desperation in her voice that his secretary thought something was wrong, he couldn't do anything but smile stupidly and spend the whole of that evening with his hand on her stomach waiting for another move.

He found himself drawn into it as much as her. Discussing names. Considering redecorating parts of the apartment, or even moving. Saying goodbye to the baby as well as to her whenever he went to work.

Asking her to marry him was interesting. "But how will we have everything ready by tomorrow?" indeed. Once he'd explained that engagements lasted a little longer in New York she delightedly said yes, and his colleagues at least cut down on the number of jokes about making an honest woman of her.

Which only really left him being a little worried - well, perhaps more confused - about how the birth was going to work. Considering he wasn't sure how the baby had gotten there in the first place, the idea of getting it out was rather beyond him right now. Nightmarish images of blood and knives didn't exactly fit with the Andalasia image.

As long as there wasn't a stork involved, he was pretty sure he could handle it. Although as the nine month mark neared, he started leaving a window open anyway. Just in case. More than once he considered asking Giselle, but somehow just couldn't bring himself to. There were some questions that a grown man should not, after all, have to ask.

Even when Giselle marked a day on the calendar in the kitchen. All he could say on that front was that if the babies in Andalasia were actually punctual, all the best to them. Giselle had looked very confused by that one.

\---

In the end, all that he really discovered was that however babies came in Andalasia, they did it quietly. Robert awoke one morning to find that, frankly as usual, Giselle was up before he was. He'd all but forgotten about her little mark on the calendar as he made his way into the living room, which probably explained the dead stop and the downright stupid expression on his face when he saw her just sitting happily in a chair, in her nightgown, holding a bundle to her chest and holy shit that wasn't a bundle, that was the baby.

The noise that left his mouth was approximately: "Bwuh?"

Giselle looked up, smiled at him, and then turned back to the baby in her arms again. The Andalasia way could really catch on in New York, if the smile on her face, the perfect look of her hair, and the lack of bags under her eyes was anything to go by. Also, you know, the lack of screaming and blood and everything he'd been worried of telling Morgan about.

"You- wuh- buh- yu-"

She looked at him like he was talking in tongues. Perhaps he was. Then he ran one hand through his hair, crossed to stand behind her, and looked down at the little pink round-faced baby in her arms. His heart warmed, and he kissed Giselle on the cheek.

"I love you," he said.

She smiled and looked up towards him. "I love you too, Robert. And I'm just... so happy."

"So am I," he said softly. He reached down to brush the baby's forehead; the baby stirred and opened big blue eyes. Giselle gasped in delight and shifted the baby slightly against her chest. "Boy or girl?"

"She's a girl," replied Giselle. He didn't ask how she could be sure; just go with the Andalasia flow. "Do you remember the names we talked about?"

"I like Adriana," he said. She nodded, and he waggled his fingers. "Hello, Adriana. Look, it's Mummy and Daddy."

It felt good saying it again. And being sure that this time both of them would be here to help raise her. Outside the window, a couple of pigeons rapped on the glass, and Giselle looked up at them and sighed. "They can wait," she said. "I think that this should be... a family day."

Robert kissed her lightly on the forehead again. "Shall I go and wake Morgan?"

"Oh, yes!"

Sometimes you just had to sit back and accept these miracles. And as Robert paused in the doorway and looked at Giselle, and Adriana, and then went to wake Morgan to introduce her to her new sister, he thought that this was a miracle. And it gave him a whole new belief in happily ever after.


End file.
